Chapter 10
Teslyn sat on the bed and watched Wyatt try to find something to watch on TV. She would have been just as happy with quiet—happier even—except then she’d have to talk to him.
TV it is.
It was just past three in the morning, Ivy was in the bathtub, and television pickings were slim.
Teslyn was exhausted, but she’d gotten a good look at Wyatt when they first entered the hotel room, and he looked even worse for wear than she felt.
Now his back was to her, the muscles of his arm standing out in sharp relief as he pushed buttons on the TV, no remote control in sight.
Her gaze made its way from his broad shoulders down to his slim hips.
He was a good-looking man, there was no doubt about that.
He was also highly intimidating and not her type—two facts made all too clear by his comment about her slacks.
It was important to her to dress conservatively.
She knew all too well how far a trashy outfit could get you in life.
Still, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like the way his eyes had bugged out of his head when she’d tied his plaid shirt beneath her breasts, exposing her midriff. Clearly, he had no qualms about women who flaunted their bodies, begging for male attention.
Definitely not my type.
She caught a glimpse of The Newlywed Show. “Oh, stop. I love that show.”
He stood with a sigh. “Fine. Not like there’s anything good on, anyway.”
“This is classic TV, you know. One of the best game shows ever made.”
He leaned his head back, his bark of laughter downright mocking. “What about Jeopardy? Twenty-Thousand Dollar Pyramid? Password?”
“Pfft. Garbage.”
He rolled his eyes and plopped on the bed beside her, gesturing to the screen. “It’s a series of bad setups for whoopee jokes.”
“That’s not true. A lot of the questions really show how well they know each other.”
“He’s about to read a question. Let’s see who’s right.”
“How much will your wife say she weighed when you first got married, and how much will she say she weighs now?”
The audience rolled with laughter, and Teslyn clucked her tongue. “That question is complete crap. They’re encouraging women to have a negative body image.”
“You’re the one who wanted to watch this show.”
She crossed her arms on her chest.
“On average, how many times a month does your wife give your house or apartment a really good cleaning?”
Wyatt laughed. “I take it back,” he said. “This show is awesome.”
Teslyn stood and marched to the TV, turning it off. “It was much funnier when I was young.”
“When did you even see it? That game show’s older than I am.”
She pursed her lips, considering her answer and settling for a half-truth. “I had a TV in my room when I was a kid. I’d watch it when I couldn’t sleep.” Shows like that had kept her company, with husbands and wives who seemed happy.
They could laugh at themselves. They didn’t yell at each other or break down into tears.
He harrumphed. “And that’s why children shouldn’t have televisions in their bedrooms, not to mention it spoils them rotten.”
That got her back up. She’d already told him her childhood wasn’t perfect. How dare he call her spoiled, of all things? “Is that what you think of me? That I was a spoiled brat? What part of, ‘we were the poorest family in town’ did you not understand?”
He held up a hand. “I was making a generalization. I wasn’t attacking you personally, though my family certainly couldn’t afford TVs in all the bedrooms.”
His stubborn refusal to see her childhood as she’d described it was her undoing.
“That TV was Marilyn’s one and only childcare expense.
She left me alone in that trailer all the time—sometimes even overnight.
This is when I was little, like Ivy’s age.
” She should stop, she knew she should, but she wanted him to eat those words and see what they’d cost her.
“That TV was everything. My nightlight, my vision of what a mother should act like, what it meant to have a dad. TV taught me what life should be like.”
His expression sobered. “I’m sorry, Tess. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”
Sighing heavily, she turned to the bed, pulling back the covers before closing her eyes. She was overreacting and she knew it. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. Having Ivy here… brings me back.”
He stroked her back, startling her and making her jerk away.
“God, I’m making it worse,” he grumbled. “I’m like a bull in a china shop. Forgive me. I know you didn’t have the kind of upbringing I did, and I shouldn’t have called you spoiled for having a TV in your bedroom.”
She found herself wishing he’d touch her again, but didn’t have a clue how to make that happen. She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I tried to make you feel bad for doing it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You did that on purpose?”
She smirked. “Maybe, but you deserved it.”
He smiled, the simple change transforming his cold features. “Well, it worked. Have you ever considered using your powers for good instead of evil?”
Heat blossomed in her cheeks as they stared at each other. Had a man as good-looking as this one ever looked at her as he was doing now? She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, unable to keep herself from flirting. “Not really.”
His bark of laughter warmed her all over, but the distant sound of sobbing interrupted her reverie. She scooted by him and headed for the bathroom door. She knocked gently. “Ivy? Are you okay in there?”
The girl’s cries grew louder. “I want my mommy.”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m not…” Ivy drew in a gasping sob. “I’m not dressed.”
Teslyn pressed her forehead to the door, wishing more than anything she could take Ivy’s pain away. “Can you get dressed, sweetie? Then I can come in?”
Ivy sniveled. “Okay.”
Wyatt came up behind her. “I’m going to see if I can find a convenience store. Pick up a snack and something to drink. Do you want anything?”
She suspected he was trying to give the two of them space to talk, and she was grateful. “Bottled water would be good, maybe a snack for Ivy.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”
Teslyn watched him leave, and she moved to sit on the bed. A minute later, the door creaked open, Ivy framed in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her torso.
Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. “I don’t have clean clothes.”
“It’s okay, put on your old ones. We’ll get you something new tomorrow.”
Ivy closed the bathroom door behind her once more, emerging wearing the same mud-streaked outfit she’d worn when Teslyn discovered her hiding behind the shed in the bayou.
She’d definitely have to get the girl more clothes, but surely it would be dangerous to use her credit card to do it.
She only had a few bucks in cash—definitely not enough for clothes shopping—and she wondered if Wyatt had cash she could borrow.
She patted the bed next to her. “Come up here.” Ivy did as she was told. “Can I give you a hug?” asked Teslyn. The two of them had so much in common, as if Teslyn was getting a chance to be a source of comfort to herself at that age.
Ivy nodded, and Teslyn pulled her in tight.
“I know you miss your mommy. And I know wherever Marilyn is, that she loves you very much, and she would do anything to be here right now.” Teslyn was struck by how certain she was of the words where Ivy was concerned, but found herself unable to believe the same things where she herself was concerned.
That’s when it hit her.
She’d never see her mother again, never wonder what she was doing, or if she ever thought about her.
In one of her favorite daydreams, Marilyn was filled with remorse for the way she’d raised Teslyn.
She’d come back begging to be forgiven, the choice of whether or not to let her off the hook resting squarely on Tess’s shoulders.
In her dreams, she had the power.
A tear slid down her cheeks as Teslyn held her younger sister and wept—for young Ivy who missed her mother—no matter her faults—for herself at Ivy’s age who had just wanted to be loved, and for her adult self, who would never have the chance to reconcile with the mother she’d never truly stopped loving.
She didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that, long enough for Ivy to fall asleep and Teslyn to stop crying. The sound of Wyatt opening the door refocused her attention on the task at hand. With an effort, she picked up Ivy, brought her to the side of the bed, and tucked her in.
Wyatt handed her the water. “Here.”
“Thank you.” Had she ever been so thirsty, so worn-out, so done?
Wyatt offered her a selection of snacks, and while she was vaguely aware she was hungry after all, fatigue won the battle of physical needs.
She shook her head, chugged half the bottle of water, and moved to the other side of the bed.
“I have to go to sleep.” She climbed into bed.
“Goodnight,” she said, barely conscious enough to listen for his answer.
“Goodnight, Tess. Sweet dreams.”